Thirteen Reasons Why
by hllothere
Summary: Nicholas Duval is sent a mysterious box with several tapes recorded by Jeffrey Sterling-his best friend, roommate, and crush-who committed suicide two weeks prior. On the tape, Jeff explains there are thirteen reasons why he decided to end his life. Nick is one of them. If he listens, he'll find out how he made the list. Based on Jay Asher's novel of the same name. Trigger warning.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

* * *

When I first got it, the package seemed innocent enough. It was propped up against the front door, sealed tightly with tape and twine, my name scrawled hastily across the front.

Inside were seven cassette tapes, and a Walkman, each tape with a number on the upper right hand corner. Each side has its own number- one and two on the first, three and four on the next, five and six, and so on. The last tape has a thirteen on one side, but nothing on the back.

I put the first tape in the Walkman and hit play.

_Helloooo, boys and girls. Jeffrey Sterling here. Live, for one night only._

My throat starts to constrict and my whole world keens around me, because I can't- I won't- believe it.

_No return engagements. No encore. And this time, absolutely no requests._

This has to be someone's idea of a bad joke, because a little more than a week before, my best friend swallowed a bottle of pills and never woke up.

_I remember lying on the bathroom floor, thinking about how easy it would be, but then I realized that there would be too many people who got off too easy. So I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life, more specifically why my life ended. And to you, if you're listening to these tapes, well you're one of the reasons why._

_I won't say which tape, but your story's on here too, I promise._

_I mean, why would a dead kid lie? That sounds like some sort of joke. Why did the dead kid lie? Answer: because he couldn't stand up. Is this some sort of weird suicide note?_

_Go ahead. Laugh._

There's a pause, and I stare at the Walkman in shock.

_Or not. I thought it was funny._

_I know some of you don't believe me. Well, all of you probably won't. But that's not what's important, these tapes are._

_Anyways, the rules are simple, and lucky for you, there's only two. Rule number one: you listen. Rule number two: you pass it on. Hopefully neither will be easy for you._

"What's that?"

"Mom!" I scramble for the stereo, hitting several buttons at once. "What the heck, mom?" I complain, trying to still my still racing heart. "And it's nothing, just some stuff."

"Can I listen?" she asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

I shake his head emphatically. "It's not your type of thing, really."

She nods reluctantly- she's been keeping an even closer eye on me since Jeff- before finally saying, "Alright, well I'll leave you in peace," and walks out, closing the door behind her.

I wait until I hear the telltale 'click' of the door shutting before placing my finger over the play button.

I can't bring myself to push it.

Hitting play the first time was easy, I had no idea what I was about to hear. But this time, this time it's one of the most frightening things I've ever done.

_When you're done listening to all thirteen sides- because there are thirteen sides to every story- rewind the tapes, put them back in the box, and pass them onto who ever follows your little tale. And you, lucky number thirteen, well, you can take these tapes straight to hell. Maybe I'll see you there._

There's a pause, and I start to think it might be over, but Jeff was always one for surprises.

_In case you're tempted to break these rules, know that I made a copy of these tapes. __If everyone plays nice, no one else will hear these tapes except for you lucky thirteen, leaving any changes in your lives completely up to you._

_Of course, if this package doesn't make it to all of you, the copies will be released in a very public way, and you'll have to deal with consequences completely out of your control._

_For some of you, the consequences will be minimal: shame, embarrassment, a loss of face. But for others- well you know what you did- you could be humiliated, fired, maybe even arrested and put in jail._

_This was not a spur of the moment decision._

_Do not take me for granted._

_Again._

There's got to be some mistake- I pull the box towards me and search for a name, an address, something, anything to tell me that the tapes aren't meant for me.

There's not.

I feel like I'm going to throw up. Jeff wouldn't be that cruel, would he? I mean, we were roommates since he transferred here halfway through freshman year, and best friends ever since. I'd like to think I knew him well enough to say that he wouldn't, but then again I hadn't noticed he was suicidal, so maybe I really didn't.

_I almost forgot. If you're on my list, you should've received a map._

I let the box fall back onto the bed.

A few weeks ago, someone had slid an envelope with my name and the words "SAVE THIS- YOU'LL NEED IT" on it under the door to our dorm room. (I guess I should start saying my dorm room now.) Inside it were a few folded up maps, with a dozen gold stars marking different areas around town.

_Throughout the tapes, I'll be mentioning several spots for you to visit. I can't force you to go there, but if you'd like a little more insight, just head for the stars. Or, if you'd like, just throw the maps away and I'll never know._

As Jeff speaks through the worn headphones, I feel the weight of my backpack pressing against my leg. Inside, crushed somewhere at the bottom, is the map.

_Or maybe I will. I'm not actually sure how this whole dead thing works. Who knows, maybe I'm standing behind you right now._

I let myself hope for a moment, turn around wildly, expecting a head of blonde hair to jump out and tackle me like always.

_I'm sorry. That wasn't fair._

_Ready, Miss Fabray?_

* * *

Love it? Hate it? Can't wait for more?  
Let me know what you think in that lovely little box down there. x


	2. Tape 1

Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

* * *

_Ready, Miss Fabray?_

Quinn Fabray. A senior. She was Jeff's first kiss, but she'd gone by Lucy back then.

_Lu- er Quinn, you were my very first kiss. Not that you ever knew that- for some reason everyone was convinced that I was some sort of ladies' man, and what teenage guy would deny that?_

_You don't know this either, but five years ago when I asked you out, you were the first person I'd ever asked out. I'd liked you since I first saw you cheering at one of the dodgeball games at the start of the year, and even more so when I ran into you in the adventure section of the library. It was a small school, so it was easy to find out your schedule through friends and classmates and always be by your room to talk to you._

_To everyone else listening, they'll probably think this is just another silly story, that it has no relevance. But does it?_

_I told you, there are thirteen sides to every story, and this- this is where everything starts._

_When you reach the end of these tapes, Lucy, I hope you'll understand your role in all this. It may seem like nothing now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters._

I take a deep breath, grateful that my parents had insisted I leave Dalton in the days following Jeff's death. I don't think I would have been able to stand hearing his voice, and knowing I'd never truly hear it again.

There hadn't been a suicide note either, just an empty bottle and a lingering smile, and we- the Warblers and I- had decided that Jeff hadn't wanted us to know why. I guess now we know there wasn't a note.

_Betrayal. It's one of the worst feelings._

_I know you didn't mean to, in fact, most of you listening probably had no idea what you were doing. _

_The first spot is a C-4 on the second map. Take your finger over to the C and drop it down to 4, just like Battleship. _

_Do you recognize it, Luce? That's our park._

The park is off in California, where he'd lived before he moved, and therefore too far for me to drive to, so I curl up on my bed instead, and try to make sense of it all.

_I practiced asking for your number, real calm and confident like I didn't really care. Like I'd asked hundreds of girls before. When I finally asked you for your number, you wrote it on my hand in that pink pen you used to love, with a smiley face at the end. I was walking on clouds the rest of the day._

_When I called you that night, I was shaking. Your mom answered the phone and wanted to know why I was calling. I told her I was Jeffrey Sterling, and I was calling to ask you out. I could hear her laughter as she handed you the phone and the embarrassment in your voice as you agreed to a date._

I nod my head slowly, I'd heard this story a few times before, after the two had reconnected one year at Regionals. They'd dated for a while in middle school before Lucy/Quinn, moved away. Little did Jeff know, he'd be following her two years later.

They were just a middle school fling, yet it was somehow the driving force in pushing Jeff over the edge? It didn't make sense to me. Then again, Jeff, who had always seemed to be such an open book, was apparently much more mysterious than any of us had realized.

_What do you want to hear about that date? I've heard so many stories that I don't know which one you already know. _

_But I do know one you don't. The truth._

_We went to the park that weekend; I was so afraid cause I'd never had a kiss before, and my friends had described so many different types, but it turned out to be a beautiful one. We just held out lips together…and kissed._

_And that's it._

_If you're confused, then don't worry. There's no need to go back because you didn't miss a thing. Let me repeat myself- that's all that happened. _

_You wanted something more, didn't you?_

_Go on, I know what you're thinking._

_Jeffrey Sterling is, and always has been a slut. And now he's a liar._

_Oops, did you catch that? Is. Guess we can't say that anymore. _

I grit my teeth, curling in tighter around myself, because _god_, how can he be so casual about all this? How can he seem so carefree when my entire world has crashed around me?

_But thank you, Lucy. Honestly. My first kiss was awesome, and for the month or so we lasted, it was wonderful. You were wonderful._

_But then you started bragging. As they always do, the rumors reached me, and everyone knows you can't disprove a rumor. Apparently I would do anything for you, I was whipped, just a snap of your fingers and I'd be right there. Soon word got around that all someone-anyone- had to do was kiss me, and I'd be their slave for life. _

_You left shortly for Ohio before the air could be cleared, and by then, my reputation had already been established. _

_I know what you're thinking. As I was telling this story, I was wondering the same thing. A kiss? A rumor based on a kiss made you do this?_

_I still don't know why you did it Lucy, but this tape isn't about why you did what you did. It's about the effect your lies had, the repercussions to me._

_No one wants to be friends with a guy who bends easily to girls._

"_Pussy," they'd call you. "Wimp, loser, freak."_

_Sometimes it'd be a lot worse. _

_Sometimes what starts out as a little white lie grows until there's a whole web of them, encroaching on its victims and trapping them up in its clutches. Sometimes a little white lie is just the beginning._

_End of Tape One. Turn the tape over for more._

There's a pause and I lean forward to pull out the tape, before I'm stopped by a quiet voice continuing on.

_I hope you get out of this town, Luce, I hope you get your adventure._

Then, silence.


	3. Tape 2

Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

* * *

_Welcome back, and thanks for sticking around for part two._

I sit up on my bed and adjust the volume, letting the sound of Jeff's voice fill my ears.

_So either you're Lucy, and after hearing your story, you want to hear who's next, or you're someone else and you're waiting to see if it's you. _

_Well, Ryan Campbell, it's your turn._

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, simultaneously relieved and disappointed it's not my name next. As much as it hurts me to think that I had somehow had a hand in destroying Jeff, I can't help but wonder what it was I did.

_You were one of those kids that every school has- loud, arrogant, obnoxious. You thought you were funny, and maybe you were, just not to me. _

_Need an example? Fine. B-3 on your first map. Moon Lake Liquor._

I don't even bother to look at the map, I know it's 500 miles away, and I don't think my parents would approve of me driving that far just to visit a convenience store.

_I have no idea why it's called that, but it's only a block away from my house. Growing up, I'd walk over every time I was hungry, so yes, every day. _

_The wire rack in front of the cash register had all the best candies. At least, they're my favorites. I was a regular there, and the moment I opened the door, the man at the register would ring me up, because he knew I never left without one._

_Except for that day._

I wince. Jeff loved his food- we used to joke about him having a third or fourth stomach at the way he was able to pack food away- and he was an extreme stickler for tradition- he had once stomped off to our room without dinner simply because it was supposed to be Taco Tuesday and the cafeteria staff had served pizza instead.

So what had happened in that store that made Jeff leave without his customary candy bar?

_I guess it didn't start in that store though; nothing ever begins where people think it does._

_It started with your list._

_ROOSEVELT JR. HIGH- WHO'S HOT AND WHO'S NOT. _

_For those of you who don't know, it was a long list of bests and worsts. I was the lucky winner of best ass. _

_I bet you thought you did a good thing, Ryan, putting me on there. Or maybe you tried to tell yourself it was just for kicks. But I know the truth, I know you only did it for revenge, did it to watch the sparks fly from Amy Palantino, the __girl you'd chosen for worst ass__. Was it a coincidence that she'd turned you down the month before? I think not. You wanted to humiliate Amy, and you wanted to do it in the worst way possible, so you made sure the entire school knew she was on the "not" list._

_It was simple, you needed a name to put opposite Amy's, and everyone already judged me after Lucy's little number. What was one more strike against me? _

_Your list took everything about me- my quirks, my likes, my personality- and boiled it down to one thing. The list gave some people the go-ahead to treat me like I was nothing but that specific body part._

The list had probably been just a joke. A bad one, sure, but the kid had had no idea it'd affect Jeff like this.

Despite it all, the only thought that comes racing back to me is- what did I do? And after people hear about it, what are they going to think of me?

There are at least two of them who already know why I'm on here- do they see me differently now?

_Here's where we go back to Moon Lake. _

_I was walking into the store, when I felt a hand cup my ass and squeeze. "Hey, there's our best ass," someone called out. _

_I pushed the hand away and turned to see Jimmy, Jimmy the Jackass, as he'd been nicknamed by some of the kids in our grade. I told him to stop, and he pulled away for a moment, before he smacked my ass once more and grinned._

_Did it hurt? No. But that's irrelevant. The real question was- did he have the right to do it?_

_The answer, I hope, is obvious. _

_They always tell girls not to let boys touch them in ways that make them uncomfortable, so why don't they doesn't that rule extend to other boys? Why is it always written off as "just playing around"? _

_Was he "just playing around" when he pushed me up against the back counter of the store, slipping one hand under my shirt, and muffling my protests with the other?_

_Yeah, I didn't think so._

There's a pause, a dry, humorless laugh that is so unlike Jeff, that I wouldn't have known it was him otherwise.

_Now Ryan, I'm not saying you were the reason he did what he did. And I'm not saying your list gave him permission to grab my ass, I'm saying it gave him an excuse. And an excuse was all he needed. _

_You were the reason I felt my skin crawl whenever one of you would walk past me, made me feel like I had to tear it all off so I could feel clean again._

_You were the reason for my scars._

It's soft, barely heard through the headphones, and I have to strain slightly to hear it. I bite my lip at his quiet confession and feel the tears welling in my eyes, because Jeff was always so bright and sunny and he wouldn't-

_Nope, you heard it right the first time._

_Jeffrey Sterling self-harmed. Sometimes it was a razor blade. Other times it was less._

_Either way it still hurt._

It suddenly feels like I can't breathe, like my chest is caving in on me and something's struggling to claw its way out, and my clothes are growing tighter and tighter around me, because FUCK, how could I not have noticed something so obvious?

Then again, I wasn't exactly looking for it, was I? I had spent most of my time trying _not_ to stare too long at Jeff, _not _to fuck everything up or let anything slip.

I guess that didn't work out anyways.

_I wonder if you worked up the nerve to come to my funeral, Ryan. _

No_._

_I wonder…_

He didn't go Jeff. None of us did.

_Were you able to look my parents the eye and tell them you were sorry for their loss, while the entire time you knew it was partly your fault I was lying there?_

Because, well, there wasn't one. At least not here. I assume your parents took you back to California, to be buried in that sunshine that you loved so much. I never really asked; it was easier for me to just stay away and not have to deal with the constant reminder that you're gone.

I feel my insides quiver, and I pull the trash can towards me, flipping open the lid just in case.

Jeff had never told me about that, about any of it. I had always assumed he'd had a normal, average life before we met. Turns out I was wrong about a lot of things.

_Fast forward two years, boys and girls; you'll never guess who's up next._

_End of Tape Two._

I wait until there's nothing but the soft hum in my ears, the sound of the squeaking spindles winding the tape, and pop open the cassette player, pulling out the old tape and sliding in the new one.

* * *

We've got our first Warbler coming up in the next chapter. Anyone care to guess who it is? :) x


	4. Tape 3

Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

* * *

_Step-by-step- that's how we'll get through it-one foot in front of the other, line by line, until everyone's story's been told. We've already finished one tape- both sides- so stick with me._

_Things get better, or worse, depending on your point of view._

A shiver runs down my spine at how vicious Jeff's voice sounds. He sounds dark and twisted, and nothing at all like the smiling ball of sunshine I remember.

It's funny how quickly things can change.

_How many of you remember school dances?_

_How many of us would rather forget?_

_They seem fun in theory, but when you're one of the only gay guys in a distinctly homophobic school, it isn't really everything it's cracked up to be._

I frown a little to myself; it all sounds vaguely familiar, yet I can't place any of it.

_Isn't that right, Blaine?_

Oh. That's why.

Both Blaine and Jeff had transferred to Dalton partway through our freshman year.

Jeff never really talked about it much, and it wasn't until Blaine had joined the Warblers and loosened up a little that I finally heard why.

_For those of you who don't know, I moved to Ohio in the summer between eighth and ninth grade. I was determined to be more confident in myself, to start fresh in a place where no one knew my name or my reputation. I had recently come to terms with who I was, and decided to start out at my new school with no secrets, nothing to hide. _

_I quickly learned that there were some things people wanted you to hide. Homosexuality was one of them._

_It was bad, but you made it better, Blaine. You were always there to help me pick up my books with a smile, or a pat on the arm to remind me that they weren't worth it. We quickly became best friends, and I felt myself falling for you._

_That is, at least, until Sadie Hawkins rolled around._

I tense slightly, knowing what's coming next.

_You asked me, and I was so happy. I imagined how much fun we were going to have, and when I think about it, we really did. We laughed at how bad the music was, but danced along anyways, and I swear I saw stars when you asked me to dance during the last slow song of the night. But then we were waiting in the parking lot for my mom to pick us up and, and-_

There's a quiet sniffle, and I can just imagine Jeff sitting there, being forced to relive all the memories he tried so hard to forget.

_There were three of them, I think, all football players. They asked us what the "fags" were doing at a thing like a school dance, then looked at us with a sick sort of fascination. _

_I should've seen it coming._

_As they walked past us, one of them jostled you, then turned and screamed that they didn't want to catch what we had. You didn't want any trouble, so you apologized for getting in their way. Apparently it wasn't enough._

_I was taller, but I was thinner and considerably more "girly", so I got the worst of it. I don't remember much, just the sound of begging and screaming and bones crunching and blood pounding in my ears. When I woke up, I was in the hospital, recovering from two cracked ribs, numerous bruises and a considerably damaged spirit._

_You didn't come visit me in the hospital. You didn't send a balloon or a note or even a text message, asking if I was alright. It was like I didn't matter, or perhaps you just didn't care. _

_I was in the hospital for three weeks, and when I finally got back to school, you were gone. You had left Westerville Central while I was still recovering, and headed off for Dalton Academy, without even as much as a goodbye._

_You ran, Blaine._

I remember he had sat next to me in English on his first day; I had raised my hand to wave hello and he flinched. At the time I had no idea Blaine was remembering the bullying he had gone through at his old school, that the idea of being safe was something new and unusual for him. I believe it was Wes who first convinced him to try out for the Warblers, and thankfully he did, because we gained a valuable asset, who later got Jeff to try out also.

_Luckily, I was able to convince my parents to let me transfer there too and by winter break, I was proudly wearing the blazer. _

I remember that too, a tall lanky blonde being led into my room by one of the RA's, his fingers stroking his tie as if he was afraid it'd disappear.

_Things were rocky between us for a while, Blaine, but I don't blame you- at least not anymore. After all, in some weird sort of way, you brought me to Dalton, to my brothers and best friends. _

_I just wish you would've stood up for you, for me, for us._

_End Tape Three ._


	5. Tape 4

Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

* * *

I look down at my clock to see that two hours have already passed, yet it feels like nothing. It seems that, even in death, Jeff has managed to captivate me.

It's only 1:00, so I flip the tape over and hit play.

_Wesley Montgomery. What a nice name, and yes, a very nice guy as well. Nice smile. Nice hair. Nice voice. Just…nice._

_At least, that's what you want people think._

I pause the tape for a moment and think. To my knowledge Jeff had never complained about the boy before and Wes genuinely _was a _nice guy. I frown a little to myself; listening to his story on these tapes must have wrecked him.

_I'm sure you meant well, Wes- you wouldn't hurt anyone intentionally. As head of council, you tried so hard to look out for all of us as best you could, but we were all so so different. _

_I still remember my first Warbler practice. It was my third month at school, and I was beyond excited. Everyone introduced themselves, and then you guys kicked it into gear. David gathered everyone around and went over choreography, and you noticed I wasn't singing because I was too busy focusing on the steps. _

_So what did you do? Did you tap me on the shoulder and remind me to sing? Did you shrug it off because it was my first day? No, you singled me out, embarrassed me in front of everyone, and made me sing my part all on my own, slamming the table with your gavel every time I was too sharp or flat. By the end of the chorus, my voice was shaking so badly, that it almost seemed like you'd hit me instead of the table. _

I wince in sympathy, remembering that day. Despite his height advantage, Jeff had looked so fragile standing next to Wes. Everyone else had stopped dancing as Wes focused on the blonde, banging his gavel whenever he strayed off key.

He had made Jeff sing the entire song by himself before letting us return to rehearsal.

_It was the longest hour and a half of my life. My cheeks were on fire for the rest of practice, and I was so nervous I kept stumbling over words and moves. When you finally banged your gavel to dismiss us, I ran to the boy's bathroom and half-cried, half-hiccupped for the better part of an hour, with snot running down my face, and the press of cold tile against my back. _

_I didn't go back until Nick called looking for me, and I lied and told him I had had to go to the library to work on a project, and would be back in a bit._

I feel my heart clench. We had looked for him after practice that day, Trent and David and I had wanted to take him out to dinner to celebrate his first practice. Looking back, I'm glad we did, although we didn't know it at the time, Jeff had had one hell of a day, and the shy smile on his face when we fought over who got to pay for him was more than worth it.

_All that time, Wes, did you know what you were really doing?_

Sure, Wes could be harsh at times, but he only did so to make sure we were ready and prepared for competition. And it worked, as we had a cabinet full of trophies to prove it.

_Nothing I ever did was good enough for you. My harmonies were always a beat off, my high notes never high enough, my vibrato not as strong as you wanted- but I worked on it. Despite the fact that half the time it was nothing but you yelling at me , I stayed for extra practice sometimes, sang every chance I got, paid attention to what everyone else was doing so that maybe I could get the same type of praise they got. _

_It seemed that all I ever got was "are you fucking kidding me, Jeff?" or "that's not seriously the best you can do, is it?" You even told me a few times that you regretted letting me into the Warblers, or that maybe I should just dance along and pretend to sing in the background. _

_Oh, and we can't forget the almost monthly "sorry Jeff, work harder and maybe you'll get the solo next time." I auditioned for a solo every chance I got, yet you would always tell me that there was something that I needed to fix, some flaw that made me the weakest link. _

Wes got on all our cases about our dancing, about our range, about not being good enough- his reputation as a mother-hen wasn't for nothing. His lectures could be long and boring, but it was his way of trying to remind us that we couldn't ever rest, that there was always something that could be worked on and improved.

I guess what Wes didn't realize- what none of us realized- was that Jeff didn't need tough love; he needed to be reminded that he was loved in the first place.

_It hurt Wes, it hurt a hell of a lot. From the first day when you showed me around, I sorta looked up to you- you were poised and confident and everything I wasn't- and then when you yelled at me or corrected me in front of everyone else, it reminded me that there was just one more thing I wasn't good at, and one more person who thought I wasn't good enough._

I fight back tears, because if there was one thing Jeff was, it was good enough. Hell, he was more than good enough for all of us. I just wish that we could have been good enough for him.

_Like I said, I'm sure none of it was intentional. Maybe you thought you were helping, looking out for me when no one else was, but you were trying to fix the wrong thing and were going about it all wrong. _

_You thought I was losing focus, when I was really losing myself._

_End Tape Four._


	6. Tape 5

Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

* * *

_Number five. I know quite a few of your secrets. How? I'm not telling. Whether I'm incredibly perceptive or you just told me yourself, I'll leave that up for you to say. _

I feel my breath hitch in my throat. This is my tape, isn't it?

_I guess, in a way, this is me helping someone out- one last good deed before I'm officially gone- a way for me to save someone who can still be saved._

_For those of you who want, take the second map, and go to E-7. Go inside, sit down, and order a drink for me. If you don't know what to order, you can never go wrong with hot cocoa._

I grab my car keys and bolt out the door before anyone can ask where I'm going. Before I know it, I'm there.

Despite the chilly weather, the line isn't too long, and I order a hot chocolate, just the way Jeff liked it, letting the chocolate soaking up the marshmallows.

The Lima Bean's the only place I know of that makes it the way he liked it.

"What're you listening to?" The girl from behind the counter asks politely.

I look down at the headphones looped around my neck. "Just some tapes."

"Cassette tapes?" She hands over my mug of cocoa. "Very hipster."

I nod, taking it from her and turning to make my way to the back of the Lima Bean, towards the closed door that leads to the patio. I find our table, the one Jeff and I had spent so many afternoons talking, studying- anything really- as long as we were together.

I take a sip of hot chocolate and hit play.

_You're probably wondering why you're at the Lima Bean, out of all places. You especially, number three. But you know exactly why you're there and you're hoping I'm not going to do this- you're hoping you're on a later tape. But I'll let you in on a little secret:_

_All the later tapes are even worse. _

Jeff inhales deeply, and I automatically stiffen, waiting for my name to leave his lips.

It doesn't.

_You're at the Lima Bean, because this is where I found out one of my friend's biggest secrets._

_This is where I found out that Kurt Hummel is anorexic. _

I nearly drop my mug in surprise. That can't be- Kurt wouldn't- one of us would have noticed by now. But past incidents slide into place in my mind, things that didn't quite make sense, finally clicking.

_Anorexia is one of those things we never hear much about, or we do and we think "oh it'll never happen'. Well here's the news, boys and girls, it's real and it happens and it's a hell of a lot closer than you think. _

_Kurt, you're one of my closest friends, you always have been, ever since we met at Warbler practice and bonded over skinny jeans. It was friendship at first sight. I remember staying up late and talking about anything and everything; I remember the look on your face when you found out I knew._

_I think that you, out of all people understood the most. After I figured out you had an eating disorder, I told you about the cutting and we agreed we'd watch each other's backs, cheer each other on. We were going to get better. _

_We were stupid to think we'd be able to do it on our own. _

_See, here's the thing about secrets- they're almost magical, in a sense, that knowledge that you're trusted enough to be told things that no one else is. But here's the other thing - they grow heavier and heavier with each passing day, until they threaten to destroy the very friendship they once upheld. _

_I couldn't do it, Kurt. Maybe you noticed the way I stopped sitting with you at lunch, I know I noticed you flinch every time I snapped the rubber band around my wrist. I couldn't deal with the fact that you might throw it all up, just as you couldn't deal with the way my fingers itched for a blade._

_So I'm sorry, Kurt, for breaking my promise. To all of you listening, he needs help, and he's still got a chance to turn it all around. Don't let him fall the way I did._

_Oh, and Kurt, be sure to stick around. You'll be interested to see where you turn up next. _

_End of Tape Five._

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see Kurt's name flash across my screen. Whether it's a coincidence or not, I can't be sure.

"The tapes, did you-?" His voice is soft and raw, like he's been crying. No doubt, he has been.

I nod slowly. "Yeah."

"You're at the Lima Bean now, aren't you?" he asks softly.

"Yeah," I repeat.

He sucks in a deep breath.

"Anorexia?" I find myself asking.

For all its worth, the brunette doesn't even try to deny it, but the struggle's evident in his voice. "Yeah."

"And another tape?"

There's a silence on the other line, and I sneak a peek at my phone to make sure he hasn't hung up.

"Kurt, you gotta know it wasn't your fault."

He huffs softly. "No, but I helped, and that's just as bad." He sighs. "I-I gotta go."

"Okay, I'll talk to you later, then?"

"Yeah. And good luck, Nick. You're gonna need it."


	7. Tape 6

Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

* * *

_There are certain people in this world who are supposed to love children and protect them from harm, not subject them to it. First map, A-6 for those of you following along._

_That's right, I'm talking to you, dad._

_It started out simple- a slap on the wrist, five minutes in time out, a few shouts here and there- but what it led to was anything but. _

I could almost feel my heart drop down into my stomach. All those times Jeff had chosen to stay at Dalton over the weekend, his insistence that we never hang out at his house, even the way he flinched at loud, sudden noises- it all started to add up in way that I wasn't so sure I liked the looks of.

_I was only eight, dad, what could you expect?_

_But I had messed up, in your eyes. I don't even remember what I did, just that you started screaming at me until I was crying, pushing me into the wall and telling me I was useless, worthless, good-for-nothing. _

_And then- well then you locked me in the hallway closet. It was dusty and crowded and I felt lost the darkness . You didn't let me out for two hours; do you know how long two hours is to a kid? _

I look down at the first map and see the gold star. Its Jeff's old home in California. I remember him telling me about the beach and the sunshine, his voice loud and fast in the way it got whenever he was excited. The way it sounded nothing like he did on the tapes.

_Hell, do you know how long two hours is to anyone? And then you started making my punishments longer and longer, until I was stuck inside the closet for an entire day._

_I started to hate the dark after that, started to hate the way it made me feel like I was drowning, like I could never escape Most nights I couldn't sleep, too afraid to turn the lights off and let the darkness drag me down, because with the darkness came your words, yelling, screaming at me, never letting me forget that I was a disappointment. _

_I thought that maybe when I got older you'd stop shoving me in the closet. I thought maybe if I resisted, or fought back just a little, you'd see the error of your ways. _

_I was wrong._

_Do you remember the first time you choked me, dad? Do you remember shoving me against the wall, reminding me how completely and utterly worthless I was? Do you remember the feel of my throat under your fingers as you squeezed? Do you remember the panic in my eyes as I struggled to breathe? _

_Because I sure do._

I had woken up to Jeff coming back from a long weekend at home late one Sunday night. He'd apologized for waking me up and I shrugged, rolled over, and went back to sleep. It wasn't until the next morning when I went to wake him up with a tickle attack that I noticed the dark bruises on his neck.

He'd slapped my hand away, stuttered out a reply, insisting they were hickies from someone he'd met over the weekend, and pulled the covers back up around him.

I should've realized from the bags under his eyes that something was up, but for some reason, I didn't. For some reason I just nodded and told him we were going to be late for class if he didn't get up.

_I should've told someone, I know. But every time I tried to, I froze. _

You shouldn't have had to tell anyone, Jeff, I should have figured it out on my own. What kind of friend was I, not to realize that my best friend was getting abused?

_How would Mom feel if she knew? Did you ever tell her that her son wasn't getting hit in lacrosse, but his own home? How many times did you lie to her about that? Ten? Twenty? Thirty? More? _

_For every bruise you pounded into my body, I made a check mark of my own._

I shake my head furiously scrubbing the tears away. I thought he knew he could've told me if something was wrong.

I guess he was just a better actor than we gave him credit for.

_And y'know what sucks the most? _

_After all the shit he put me through, he was still my hero. Every little boy wanted to be just like his dad, and I was no exception to the rule._

_But now?_

_Now, I don't want to be anything like you._

_I'd rather be dead. _

There's a laugh, a raw, throaty, chuckle that sends a shiver down my spine.

_Oh wait._

_End of Tape Six._


End file.
